


Reunion

by Geekychic1012



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 06:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16969515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geekychic1012/pseuds/Geekychic1012
Summary: After the battle at Denerim, Pyhra Mahariel attempted to find her lover Morrigan to no avail. A decade later, the two reunite out of the blue when Morrigan and the Inquisition find the temple of Mythal, which Pyhra had found years before. The reunion is... less than perfect.





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> This work includes the ocs of myself and my friend's Maxxie and Cloud. Pyhra Mahariel and Rowan Lavellan belong to me, but Edric Cadash belongs to Cloud and Mirevas Lavellan belongs to Maxxie.

Pyhra had been in the middle of one of her daily rituals when she heard it. A dragon’s roar, followed by the slamming of the front doors. Abandoning the path of light she had been dancing on, Pyhra hurried to the foyer to find Templars- or what she assumed were Templars among monsters made of red crystals- stomp across the entrance. Pyhra stayed hidden until they were gone, then looked to the front of the room to see another group enter. There were two elves, a dwarf, a Qunari, and two mages, one of whom looked exactly like- “Morrigan?”

 

Pyhra stepped out into the light as she stared at Morrigan, who looked just as shocked as Pyhra was. It had been… too long, far too long. An old, long forgotten rage suddenly filled Pyhra once more and she stormed across the room to stop in front of Morrigan. Then she backhanded the other woman and her companions went for their weapons. Pyhra held a hand up and told them, “I mean you no harm. I simply… needed to get that out of my system.”

 

“I suppose I deserve that.” Morrigan said after a moment, rubbing the spot Pyhra had slapped. She looked as though she was trying not to cry, as well as hide the fact she wanted to cry. So far, she wasn’t doing a good job. After Morrigan’s companions sheathed their weapons, the male elf stepped forward and asked, “I’m sorry but who are you, how do you know Morrigan, and what are you doing here?”

 

Pyhra smiled slightly, this one reminded her of her recruits. She thought for a moment, then told him, “I am Warden-Captain Pyhra Mahariel, but you may know me as one of the Heroes of Ferelden. Morrigan and I fought together in the Fifth Blight, any more than that is private information. And as for why I came here… I was Dalish before I became a Warden. Eventually, I decided to leave my post as Warden-Captain and travel Thedas in search of Elvhen ruins and artifacts. I believed I had a duty to do so as one of the stronger members of the Dalish. After a time, my travels led me here, where I found the Sentinels. This place… it changes everything, da’len. Our people, our ancestors, they still live! They are here. I’ve been at work trying to prove I am worthy of their knowledge and was doing so until those weird looking shems stormed in here with you.”

 

That was… a lot to absorb. For a moment, no one said anything, and Pyhra wondered if she broke them until the Qunari spoke up, “Well that’s interesting, now how about we go after those Red Templars huh?”

 

The female elf chuckled at that while the male elf and dwarf smirked. Morrigan shot him one of her world-famous glare before she turned to Pyhra and said, “Who are these Sentinels anyway? Are they truly ancient elves?”

 

“No, Morrigan, I mixed up regular Dalish elves for powerful ancient elves. Trust me ma vh-... ma’falon, they are real. Come, I will show you the way after you complete the petitioner’s ritual.” Pyhra said as she leads the group to the ritual stand. She couldn’t call Morrigan her vhenan anymore, not after everything that happened. After explaining the ritual and how to perform it, Pyhra asked the group, “So who are you all anyway? I can sense powerful, ancient magic within you three-” she pointed to the elves and the dwarf- “but you aren’t mages. And how did you find Morrigan anyway? Or did she find you?”

 

“It was a bit of both. They were searching for me, and I allowed them to find me.” Morrigan responded. The shem mage scoffed and said, “Oh please, even if that was true we could have found you on our own with how much jewelry you were wearing. And the skin! Honestly, there was more skin than dress. Not that it didn’t look fabulous, of course.”

 

“Wait, you were in a dress? I would have liked to see that.” Pyhra chuckled. She saw a light blush form on Morrigan’s cheeks before she scowled and looked away and chuckled. The male elf chuckled and explained, “We’re the Inquisitors, Rowan and Mirevas Lavellan and Edric Cadash. These our are companions, Dorian Pavus, the Iron Bull, and Solas.”

 

“En’an’sal’en, da’len. It’s nice to meet all of you. Though I must ask, what exactly is the Inquisition?” Pyhra asked. Suddenly everyone stopped, and Mirevas asked her, incredulous, “Are you serious? Creators, how long have you been here?”

 

“Hm… maybe a year? Or two? I’m not sure. Keeping track of time with some of the rituals is hard. Why? What’s happened?” Pyhra asked. She noticed the look the group shared with each other and became a bit nervous. Morrigan placed a hand on Pyhra shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before she said, “Much, my l- my friend. I will explain it to you later. First, we must stop the Red Templars and their leader Samson from reaching the Well of Sorrows.”

 

After they had killed the Red Templars and the rest had fled into the chasm they had created, Pyhra shouted, “By the Dread Wolf! What were those things?”

 

“Red Templars. Ya ever hear of Red Lyrium? Nasty stuff makes you crazy and deadly ill if you’re around it too long. Yeah, those guys use it like regular Lyrium.” Edric explained to Pyhra, who blinked in shock and asked, “Why would the Chantry let them do that? I know they’re fools but this-”

 

“The Chantry is in ruins Pyhra. There was a war between mages and Templars. Hundreds of circles rebelled. In the wake of this, Corypheus- an ancient darkspawn Magister who wishes to become a god- brought many Templars to his side and turned them into those things. He now seeks the Well of Sorrows for whatever reason, and those Templars wish to claim it for him.” Morrigan explained sharply, grabbing Pyhra by the shoulders and staring at her intently. She took a moment to process this, then murmured, “Well… shit. We should hurry and complete the entrance rituals then.”

 

“Entrance rituals? I’m sorry, but why don’t we just jump down the hole the Templars jumped into? Seems faster than doing a bunch of rituals.” The Iron Bull argued. Solas quickly rebutted Bull and told him, “Now is not the best time to act like a charging bull, Bull.”

 

“Oh ha ha, very funny.” Bull grumbled as he shot a one-eyed glare at the elven mage. Pyhra smirked to herself, then explained to the others, “We have to walk the petitioner’s path to gain entrance to the Temple. If we follow the Templars, the Sentinels will attack you. And trust me, you don’t want that. Follow me. I’ll show you what to do.”

 

Once they completed the rituals, Pyhra leads the group to the door- which now glowed bright blue- and pushed it open. They walked in, and as the doors shut behind them, Pyhra sensed the Sentinels appear behind them. Inquisitors must have heard them, because Edric whispered to the group, “We’re being watched.”

 

Abelas appeared on the balcony, glaring down at Pyhra and the others. She quickly performed a Dalish salute to Abelas and told him, “En’an’sal’en, Abelas. Ir abelas, I know outsiders are forbidden, but-”

 

“Venavis,” Abelas barked, and Pyhra immediately fell silent as Abelas turned his gaze on the Inquisitors, “You all… are unlike the other intruders. Two of you have the features of those who call themselves Elvhen and you all bear the mark of magic which is… familiar. How has this come to pass? What is your connection to those who first disturbed our slumber?”

 

Rowan quickly responded, “They are our enemies, as well as yours.”

 

Abelas considered this, then said, “I am called Abelas. We are Sentinels, tasked with standing against those who trespass on sacred ground. We wake only to fight, to preserve this place. Our numbers diminish with each invasion. I know what you seek. Like all who have come before, you wish to drink from the vir’abelasan.”

 

““The Place of the Way of Sorrows.” He speaks of the Well!” Morrigan hissed to the group. Pyhra glared at her; of course she would seek the vir’abelasan. Abelas scowled at Morrigan as well and proclaimed, “It is not for you. It is not for any of you.”

 

“We know this, Abelas. We merely wish to protect the vir’abelasan from those who would wish to corrupt it or steal its power.” Pyhra quickly explained to Abelas. Mirevas spoke then, and asked Abelas, “Wait, so you’re actual ancient Elvhen? From the days before Tevinter destroyed Arlathan?”

 

Abelas huffed quietly and replied, “The shemlen did not destroy Arlathan. We Elvhen warred upon ourselves. By the time the doors to this sanctuary closed, our time was over.”

 

“Wait… that’s not right. What are you saying?” Dorian asked, shocked. From his accent and his interest in Tevinter, Pyhra guessed he was from the Imperium. Abelas almost seemed to roll his golden eyes as he replied, “You would not know truth. Shemlen history is as short as the pool of your years.”

 

“What did the Imperium do, then? Are you saying it wasn’t a war?” The Tevinter mage questioned. Abelas huffed and said, “The “war” of carrion feasting upon a corpse, yes. We awaken only when called, and each time find the world more foreign than before. It is meaningless. We endure. The vir’abelasan must be preserved.”

 

Rowan suddenly became very angry and snapped at Abelas, “Our people have lost everything. They need you. They could learn from you!”

 

“Our people? The ones like you two and Petitioner Mahariel, who we see in the forest, shadows wearing vallasin? You are not my people.” Abelas spat, exchanging glares with Rowan. Mirevas turned to Solas and asked, “Solas, talk to him, maybe he’ll listen to you.”

 

“What shall I say, Inquisitor? Shall I sway him from a millennia of service by virtue of our shared blood? He clings to all that remains of his world, because he lacks the power to restore it.” Solas responded with a shrug. Edric huffed and finally spoke up, “Okay that’s great and all but what the heck is the… Well thing anyway?”

 

“It is a path, one walked by those who toiled in Mythal’s favor.” Abelas explained. Morrigan hummed quietly and suggested, “He speaks of priests, perhaps?”

 

“Yes, or the Elvhen version of them.” Pyhra responded. Abelas frowned and added, “More than that, you need not know. You are not worthy of the vir’abelasan. You have invaded our sanctum as readily as the shemlen.” 

 

Pyhra quickly defended the Inquisitors, “Abelas, they knew this place was sacred and respected it as best they could. They even followed the Rites of Petition! These “invaders” have shown the utmost respect to Mythal and her temple. Please, allow them to help us.”

 

Abelas considered this for a moment, then nodded and said, “You are right, da’len. If these shemlen are enemies of yours, we will aid you in destroying them. When this is done, you shall be permitted to depart… and never return.”

 

“Consider carefully,” Morrigan whispered to the Inquisitors, “You must stop Corypheus, yes, but you may also need the Well for your own.”

 

“The Well is not ours to take, Morrigan. Please, Inquisitors, accept Abelas’s terms and help us preserve the Well.” Pyhra pleaded. The Inquisitors shared a look, then nodded. Mirevas stepped forward and told Abelas, “We accept your offer.”

 

Abelas nodded, pleased, and held a hand out to beckon forth another Sentinel as he said, “You will be guided to those you seek. As for the vir’abelasan… It shall not be spoiled, even if I must destroy it myself.”

 

Pyhra was saddened to know an artifact of such importance was to be lost, but respected Abelas’s decision. But Morrigan, it seemed, could not- no, would not accept it. As Abelas turned to leave, Morrigan cried out, “No!”

 

She then turned into a raven in a flash of purple light and dark clouds before flying off after Abelas. Pyhra shouted out for Morrigan before transforming herself and giving chase. She soared through the Temple, flapping her wings hard to catch up to Morrigan. Once she did, Pyhra soared above her and changed back into a human to fall onto Morrigan, who wisely transformed back into a human before they crashed. Pyhra quickly jumped on top of Morrigan, pinning her down as she shouted, “What are you doing?!”

 

“Let me go, fool! I must get to the Well before he destroys it!” Morrigan yelled as she wrestled underneath Pyhra. She knew Morrigan would never hurt her, and with her training with her clan hunters, Pyhra had the upper hand. Pyhra kept Morrigan pinned as she questioned her, “Why? What do you want with the Well?”

 

“It’s knowledge cannot go wasted Pyhra! We have lost so much to time; we cannot lose this as well!” Morrigan exclaimed. Pyhra glared at her and snapped, “We? Morrigan, you are not Elvhen. The Well is our relic, not yours! Abelas has a right to decide its fate, and you will not interfere. I will not let your hunger for power corrupt one of the few artifacts of my people!”

 

A look of hurt passed across Morrigan’s features, and for a moment Pyhra regretted what she had said. But then Morrigan’s face hardened with anger, and Pyhra reminded herself who she was talking to: Morrigan, a Witch of the Wilds. But she also knew she was Morrigan, her vhenan. Despite it all, Pyhra wanted to trust Morrigan, so she moved off of her. Morrigan quickly jumped and turned to leave, but paused to glance over her shoulder at Pyhra.

 

“... It’s not greed that drives me, my love. It is fear. Fear that the past will be lost to all races. Fear that I could lose the people I love… again.” And with that, she was gone, flying off after Abelas again. Pyhra remained there for a moment before she got up and flew after her. 

 

Eventually, she reached a garden, riddled with battle scars and dead Templars and Sentinels. The Inquisitors and their companions had just arrived and were killing the last of the monsters when Abelas appeared from another hall, Morrigan right on his tail. A staircase appeared, and he climbed it as fast as possible, but Morrigan was faster still and reached the well before him. The group ran after them, reaching the top just as Morrigan changed back and shouted out, “You heard his parting words, Inquisitors. He wishes to destroy the Well of Sorrows!”

 

“So the Sanctum has been spoiled at last.” Abelas said as he stepped back, his face unreadable. Morrigan glared at him and accused, “You would have destroyed the Well yourself, given the chance.”

 

“Too keep it from your grasping fingers! Better it be lost than bestowed upon the undeserving!” Abelas shouted back. Morrigan, of course, wouldn’t shy away from shouting, “Fool! You’d let your people’s legacy rot in the shadows!”

 

“Enough! Both of you. Morrigan, you have no right to argue the fate of the vir’abelasan. Abelas, would you rather see this artifact lost to all of the Elvhen than give up its secrets?” Pyhra shouted out as she stood in between the two, looking between them. Morrigan looked like she wanted to protest, but knew better. Abelas’s glare softened somewhat, but he was still scowling as he said, “If it means keeping it out the hands of the unworthy, then yes.”

 

“... What if someone worthy could drink from the Well? Myself, or one of the Elvhen Inquisitors.” Pyhra suggested after a moment of silence. Abelas frowned and looked to the Well as he said, “Do you even know what you ask? As each servant of Mythal reached the end of their years, they would pass their knowledge on… through this. All that we were. All that we knew. It would be lost forever.”

 

“No, it wouldn’t. It would be passed to one of us, and we, in turn, would pass it to the Dalish. We can never be what we once were, but we can learn and try. This knowledge would only be lost if you destroyed the Well, Abelas.” Pyhra insisted. Abelas thought long and hard on her words, then conceded at last and told her and the others, “You all have shown respect for Mythal. And there is a righteousness in you I cannot deny.”

 

He turned and started to walk away before he stopped and looked back at the group as he explained, “The vir’abelasan may be too much for a mortal to comprehend. Brave it if you wish, but know this: you shall be bound forever to the will of Mythal.”

 

“Bound? To a goddess who no longer exists, if she ever did?” Morrigan scoffed, receiving glares from the elves of the party. Abelas didn’t snap or glare, just explained simply, “Bound, as we are bound. The choice is yours.”

 

“Is it possible Mythal might still exist?” Mirevas asked suddenly. Abelas merely responded, “Anything is possible.”

 

“Elven legend states that Mythal was tricked by Fen’Harel and banished to the Beyond.” Morrigan argued. Abelas shook his head and corrected her, ““Elven” legend is wrong. The Dread Wolf had nothing to do with her murder.”

 

“Murder? I’ve never heard anything of-” Rowan started, but was cut off by Abelas.

 

“She was slain, if a god truly can be. Betrayed by those who destroyed this temple. But the vir’abelasan remains. That is something.” Abelas explained. Pyhra frowned slightly and asked Abelas, “What will you do now?”

 

“I will leave. My duty is over, why remain?” Abelas said with a simple shrug. Solas looked at him with pity and offered, “There is a place for you, lethallin… if you seek it.”

 

Abelas shook his head and responded, “I will seek only a place untouched by shemlen. It may be that only uthenera awaits me. The blissful sleep of eternity, never to awaken… If fate is kind.”

 

“You could come with us. Help teach the Dalish of their true past.” Pyhra suggested. Abelas smiled slightly and told Pyhra, “Ma ema a on vhenan, da'len. Emathe mah.”

 

“Ma serannas, lethallin.” Pyhra replied with a sad smile. He had said she had a good heart, and to hold onto it. A lesson Pyhra would hold onto for years to come.

 

“Malas amelin ne halam, Abelas.” Solas solemnly said to Abelas. He nodded gratefully to Solas, then turned and simply left. Solas explained to the others, “His name. Abelas means sorrow. I said… I hoped he finds a new name.”

 

Once Abelas was gone came the question of who was to drink from the Well. Edric made it clear he didn’t want to even touch the Well, let alone drink from it, and Pyhra shut down Morrigan’s offer to with a well placed glare. So that left Pyhra, Rowan, and Mirevas.

 

“I think you should Pyhra. You seem the most worthy to.” Rowan suggested. Pyhra smiled slightly, but shook her head and said, “No, it would not be wise for me to do so. I only have maybe 10 or 20 years left to me, if I am lucky. I would not be able to do enough for the Dalish as you two would.”

 

Mirevas immediately volunteered, and though the others, notably Rowan, Bull, and Solas, expressed concern, she went through with it. They only had a moment to process what had happened afterwards, as Pyhra sensed a powerful Darkspawn nearby and said so to the others. They went pale and looked to the entrance of the garden as a strange and horrifying Darkspawn blasted open the doors. Morrigan shouted to flee through the Eluvian and Pyhra obeyed. She may have been a Warden but she was no fool, she knew she wouldn’t be able to fight  _ that. _

 

And so Pyhra arrived at Skyhold through the Eluvian. Once they realized Rowan had been left behind the others went into a frenzy and Pyhra left them to decide what to do. She had no place in their affairs. Pyhra spent the rest of the day adjusting to her new quarters and reading up on everything that had happened in her absence. The destruction of the Kirkwall Chantry- Pyhra was going to smack Anders upside the head with her staff for that, the Mage-Templar war, and of course, the destruction of the Conclave and everything after. The events at Adamant left Pyhra… in shock, to put it lightly. She cursed herself for leaving, for allowing this to happen. Because of course Pyhra felt responsible; she left, after all. Once she recovered, Pyhra traveled to the gardens to get some air, only to find Morrigan there with… a child.

 

“Morrigan… is that…?” Pyhra questioned softly as she approached, watching the boy poke at the ground with a stick, possibly drawing. Morrigan sighed and nodded as she replied, “Yes, Pyhra, that is my son. Kieran.”

 

“And he’s… normal?” 

 

“Ha! For the son of a crazy apostate like me, you mean?”

 

“I  _ meant  _ for a child with the soul of an old god, but yes, that too.”

 

They shared a laugh, and for a moment Pyhra felt as though everything was as it used to be. But it wasn’t, not really. Morrigan must have noticed this too, because she went silent for a long while before she said, “He is surprisingly normal, for his circumstances. Although he is prone to making… odd statements now and again.”

 

“I see… What does he know of his father?”

 

“Just that he was a good man. I thought he deserved that, at the very least.”

 

“... And me? Does he know anything about me?”

 

“I… I told him you were my… my love. One I cherished as much as him. I suppose the feeling is not shared anymore, is it?”

 

“... No. Not anymore… But I appreciate you telling him about me, Morrigan. Thank you.”

 

“... Would you like to speak with him?” Morrigan offered after a painfully long period silence. Pyhra smiled and nodded before Morrigan lead her over to her son. The boy looked up at Pyhra as she approached and told her, “Your blood is like mine, but different. We’re similar, but not the same.”

 

“Odd statements indeed.” Pyhra chuckled, and Morrigan smiled in response. They would never be as they were, but… this was a good start.


End file.
